Popping Up Potter
by lila thunderstorm
Summary: What happened in those ten years he was with the Dursleys ? Now we will finally know...
1. Chapter 1: Out of Reach

_Dear reader,_

 _Hello and welcome to my Harry Potter stories, Popping up Potter. The following chapters are about young Harry, growing up with the Dursleys. Have fun, And good luck to you, muggles, struggling on without magic! Good luck!_

 _Faster, faster._ The words whirled around in Harry's head, but did not seem to be going anywhere, let alone his poor, helpless, spindly little legs. He looked up. He wouldn't have to run for much longer, as the bins were only about another 15 yards away, and Dudley and his gang were getting closer. Only 12 yards till he got beaten so badly he wouldn't be able to sit down for days. Now only ten until he got caught. Five. He should probably leap for the last bit, then he might be able to hide behind the school bins for a little longer. Two. "Now!" the last word came as a little yelp as he left the ground. Wait, what?! What was happening? He wasn't jumping, but soaring, soaring high up …

He felt every eye in the playground on him, following his gaze as a lion's eye follows its prey. He, Harry, could see it now, there was no doubt about it. Harry was flying, flying up, up over the dustbins next to the wall, up, now over the wall, and now falling, falling down, down onto the school roof! As sure as sure can be, he, Harry, a no-one, was now sitting on top of the school roof, with the whole school staring and pointing at him from down below. Now the teachers were rushing over, screeching for the tallest ladders, nostrils flaring, eyes wide. Insults, detentions, tellings offs and scolding words were, clear as day, forming in their minds. It must be, after all, breaking lots of school rules to climb the school wall, let alone be on the roof (although Harry didn't actually climb the wall, or purposefully land on the roof, the teachers would think him insane if he told them the truth). Oh well. There was no escape now.

Great. Now he had detention for two whole weeks, and the headmaster was filing a school report. This was going on his record as sure as hell. He never had any luck. Nor any friends. He lived with his mean uncle and aunt, and was mocked and ridiculed daily by his cousin Dudley. On top of this, his parents were killed in a car crash, he lived in a cupboard, he was only in second grade. Oh, and it was his birthday next week, which he'll now be spending most of IN DETENTION! If only he had some friends to share his troubles with..

Back home, and once again safely locked away in his cupboard, Harry sat and thought. He thought about how he had managed to leap up high, onto the school roof. 'Maybe it means I have superpowers that I'm only just discovering now?' he thought hopefully.

Meanwhile, his aunt and uncle were having a serious discussion, out of earshot. "This is bad, this is very, very bad," Uncle Vernon muttered.

Aunt Petunia squealed "It's happening, and we can't do anything about it."

"I told you we should beat the boy."

Please comment and tell me if you liked it!

This was fun, I really enjoyed writing my first piece of Fan fiction!


	2. Chapter 2: Harry Hairs It

_I hope you understood my terrible joke in the title-Harry hairs it-hair=hare !(sorry. Please enjoy.)_

It was the last week of the summer holidays. Harry's hair was longer than it had ever been, down to his shoulders, and he liked it.

But there was only one problem. His aunt Petunia didn't.

He had tried, multiple times, to reason with his aunt and uncle, and always his efforts ended fruitlessly, once including him being locked for a day in his cupboard.

His new hairstyle was even aggravating Dudley's gang more than usual.

Dudley was probably worried that the gang would begin to like Harry more than himself, and would fall into the style of longer hair...

 _Here's what you need to know about Dudley's gang at school:_

 _E veryone has a nickname_

 _There are 4 of them, not including Dudley_

 _Everyone mocks and teases Harry_

 _Dudley organises the games of 'HarryHunting'_

 _ **Piers**_ _= Wetter_

 _wets his bed secretly_

 _sticks Harry's head down the toilet_

 _ **Dennis**_ _= Stang_

 _kicks and punches Harry_

 _his kicks really sting_

 _ **Malcolm**_ _= Manky_

 _Noogies and wedgies and stuff_

 _secretly in love with Mandy, a 5_ _th_ _grade girl, way out of his league_

 _ **Gordon**_ _= Hunch_

 _He's a hunchback, hence the nickname_

 _He's very muscly, so he's in charge of holding Harry still whilst other people give him wedgies and stuff_

He had already hared it once, and he did not want to have to again.

Harry had been tricked into going to a hairdressers, so he had run.

He had run all the way home.

That was when he had been locked in his cupboard for the next day.

He had figured that, if he continued evading their traps, then it would be too late, and he'd be able to keep his cool ass haircut. But he may have been wrong...

As soon as the unsuspecting 7-year-old stepped through the door, someone grabbed hold of him from the shirt cuff.

He was spun around, hurled forward, and dropped onto a chair.

In the confusion, he hadn't seen who was now holding his hands behind the chair, twisting them brutally, but he could guess well enough.

It was either Dudley, or one of his gang.

He yelled " Ger'off ", wiggling his hands, hoping they will come free. They didn't.

The poor boy's widened eyes saw Vernon grimly pass the scissors to Petunia, who was standing behind Harry.

She

began

to

snip.

Two minutes later, Harry's hair was so short that he looked like a medieval monk.

A minute later. Harry's hair was closer to a mohawk than a strip, although he still despised his new hairstyle, he was allowed to leave.

He ran to the bathroom, took one glance in the mirror, and stifled a shriek.

He was then promptly locked in his cupboard.

Harry went to bed that night, wondering what would happen in the morning, when he had to go to school...

He woke up, picked up the shard of mirror he had, and looked at his reflection.

Last night, he had had a terrible dream, in which Aunt Petunia had cut his hair and he had ended up with a mohawk.

With a sudden jolt, he remembered that it was true, not a dream.

Yet his reflection looked normal, not-long, medium length, scruffy, black hair.

OMG!

 _How did his hair grow back in the night ?_

 _Was it, no, wait, no, it couldn't be, magic ?_

 _I hope you enjoyed this piece!_

 _Please, tell me what you like, and what I can improve on. I have a few more story ideas that were mentioned, or not, in the books, forming in my mind..._

Seriously, I hope you enjoy reading these. Your comments and enthusiasm keep me going quicker with these, and make them more enjoyable for me.


	3. Chapter 3: Birthday Boy

_Harry Potter's 7_ _th_ _birthday- I wonder how the Dursleys will react ?_

The morning was still young. Harry was not yet awake. The sharp rap of Aunt Petunia's hand against his shoe cupboard (that he used as a bedroom) woke him up with a start, followed by his uncle's loud, booming voice . "Hurry up, boy, we don't have all day. You have detention, remember?" he cackled gleefully from outside the door. Harry sighed. He was the only one who had remembered his birthday...

As the downtrodden birthday boy trudged his way back through the small park and alleys of Little Whinging, he came upon a familiar sight, those two big knuckleheads from Dudley's gang at school, Stang and Hunch (and it was clear where they got their names from). Besides Dudley, they were the biggest, meanest, toughest guys in the playground. The other day, he had seen Hunch beat up, and give a wedgie to, Lucy, the disabled girl in the wheelchair in 3rd grade. Harry waited for the right time to make a dash for it, but it was too late. They had seen him. The worst was coming.

" Well, if it ain't Hairy Pirouette Potter," they had swaggered their way over to him, and now blocked his path, shoulder to shoulder.

" Ploppy Potter"

" Scared doushbags " Harry retorted.

" Haggy Harry"

"Poopy Potter"

"Well, you're just a couple of butt munches "

"Pig-faced Potter"

"Bubble butt"

"Wacky weirdo"

"Fat-faced freak"

" Doofy butt munch"

" Well, aren't you just a pair of..." Harry began, then saw his opportunity, and dived between Stang's legs. He hurried back along the narrow alleys and dim streets, and finally came to Privet Drive.

He had been told to go to Mrs. Figgs' house when he got home, so off he went.

Mrs Figgs was a kind, slightly strange smelling, old lady (of about 40). When he was sent to see her, she would spend the time talking about her cats, sitting in squishy armchairs, drinking hot chocolate, and eating homemade chocolate cake. Oh, Mrs Figgs. She did always smell of cats, Harry thought, as he walked up the little path and raised his hand. He knocked on the old, little door.

"Hello, Harry ". Her voice echoed through the trim, neat little garden, as she opened the door. She then asked Harry to step inside, and to sit down, as the birthday cake will be ready soon. " Thank you …" Harry trailed off, then "hang, on, did you say _birthday_ cake ?"

At that moment, the kind lady re-entered the room, and began singing " _Happy birthday to you,_

 _happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Harry-y-y-y, happy birthday to you !"._

"31st of July, how could I forget." She laughed a little and smiled, a small, sad smile, as if recalling something from long ago, lost in her mind for the time being, but resurfacing every now and again.

Meanwhile, Harry had just sat there, speechless. Someone had remembered his birthday...

 _I hope you enjoyed this, please remember to give me lots of comments, I'll be doing some more one or two page stories soon!_


	4. Chapter 4:Tooth-Tastrophe!

_My first molar tooth to be wobbly, finally is wobbly! This is why I chose to write this story next. Please enjoy, and relate to your own past experiences..._

Flick, flick, flick. Harry was 4 , and he wore the slight movement in his tooth like a crown.

Seriously, ever since he arrived at the Dursley's doorstep that fateful night, he'd been given wet willies and, when he stopped wearing nappies, atomic wedgies too. Now that he had started primary, not much had changed.

Dudley and his friends still gave him wedgies and purple nurples, they now teased him about his being skinny, and not having lost a tooth. But now...

He wobbled and jerked, flicked and pulled, but his tooth didn't come. It wasn't wobbly enough. It just wouldn't budge.

He wasn't going to try any of those rumoured cheap tricks hat he'd heard about, even if they did work.

Even the old tying-your-tooth-to-a-string-to-a-door wasn't good enough. He wanted something more, something special. It was going to come out naturally.

Yikes! Even now, a month later, he still wouldn't give in.

It was the weekend, and Dudley's clown town bday-bash was tomorrow.

The Dursley's couldn't get a baby sitter, plus were worried that Harry might burn the house down if he was left home alone, so he was going, too!

Early the next morning, Harry was woken up to make breakfast and get ready, just like every Sunday this was no ordinary Sunday morning.

Harry was gong to clown town! He was so excited to finally be going to a play area that he was practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

He'd heard so much about this place, so naturally Harry was very surprised

when they drove up behind Tesco, and, to be frank, rather disappointed.

"Yes, we are here for Dudley's bday bash. Yes, our son is Dudley. Ok, Thank you." .

The car drove into the parking lot and parked.

'This place is aammm-aaazzinggg!'After they passed the brightly-coloured reception area, confirmed their booking, and handed their shoes in, it was awesome!

Harry felt like he was in a castle.

You know how when you do something really exciting that you have been dreaming about for ages, everything seems to go so fast that it's nearly a blur of motion; well, that's how Harry felt today.

The blue gate ,with ultra security, opening made it seem like they had succesfully made it into a kingdom that they were about to conquer.

As the latch lifted and the boys swarmed through, everything was a blur.

Harry savoured the moment when he finally stepped through the gate and into the eating zone. Then they all rushed over to the play area, and Harry was left alone.

He wasn't sure of which way to go, so he eagerly began rushing over to the gargantuan, bouncy structure that loomed over him. As he rushed in, a big kid( one of Dudley's friends) lashed his foot out and sent poor little Harry flying through the air, before landing in a sorrowfully tangled heap next to the small play area .

The big kid came back over to him.

"The big play area is for us older kids. Go back to the babie's area, for under 5's, like a good boy".

He then closed a small gate that Harry had not noticed before, and turned a switch. Harry was locked into the younger kids' area! He found it unfair that because he was a bit too young, he couldn't have fun.

Despite all this, he still enjoyed himself, rushing around the ball pit, playing on the scooters, fighting his way through a row of obstacles, and then triumphantly sliding back down to the ball pit again. But then came lunchtime...

It was lunchtime, and everyone was gathered around the eating area. The primary-coloured walls made the long tables in the main area stand out as they were led towards the blue alcove of the party table, set apart from anything else, although near the vending machines, snack bar and toilets.

Harry wasn't allowed any cake because they didn't want an unwanted guest, especially Harry, ruining their 'precious Dudikins's ' birthday feast, so he was told to go back and wait in the play area.

There was no one else around, so Harry began slowly making his way over to the Little kids area.

He stopped suddenly.

What was that, looming over him?

Quickly, he swivelled around.

There it was.

The big kids play area.

It now looked friendly, welcoming, not imposing.

Harry checked carefully.

Yes, everyone was still tucking into their delicious slices of chocolate birthday cake.

Dashing hopefully in, he looked around.

Wow! So much to see, so much to do! He couldn't choose.

He had been there for some 15 minutes now.

Excitedly, he had made his way up the four-story factory of fun and delights, and was now, only just, on the second floor.

He instantly began making his way towards the awesome obstacles when a large hand clamped down on his shoulder.

" I thought we told you, no little kids contaminating our older zone!" It was a big kid. Some people must of finished eating and gone up whilst

Harry was too engrossed in, well, having fun to realise that anyone had finished having their cake.

Botheration! Confound it! ( Harry goes very British when he is angry).

But there were nearer problems to worry about.

A large fist was coming, as if in slow motion, towards his mouth.

There were chants in the background of ' That'll show him' and ' yeah, get him! He stepped out of line, he needs to be taught a lesson!'.

Harry braced himself. As the hard knuckles slowly made contact with the soft flesh, Harry felt a searing pain across his cheek and jawbone before he blacked out and crumpled to the floor...

Everything was swimming, swimming... Wait a sec, hold up, what just happened? Lets see; he attempted to open his eyes...Wait!

He blinked quickly a few times, then looked around him. He was in his cupboard, back at home, and in his hand, out of his mouth, had just come...No. It was impossible. His pride and joy, his soon-to-be ticket from bullying was. No.

He looked again. Yes, there it was, no point denying it, his tooth had been punched out. Oh well. Another one will be wobbly soon. And maybe the tooth fairy will come? Maybe...


	5. Chapter 5: Got the Blues

_Sorry I'm really slow with writing these...hope you enjoy this one! Thanks for your patience._

'Little Harriet's in big twuble this time". Harry was pushed back a little closer to the door of his classroom by Stang's finger.

He saw Mrs. Laban picking up the bell. The end of recess bell. Harry was doomed.

His year two teacher, Mrs. Burman, had a history of being the strictest teacher in the school. Just the other week, she had given Tom a detention just for hanging around her door at recess, and that was so he could wish her happy birthday.

When Harry had been locked in his cupboard, he had left all of his school things on the kitchen table (that's why he'd been locked in his cupboard in the first place) so had been unable to do his homework.

But what teacher would believe that he lived with an Aunt and Uncle so cruel, that they'd lock their own nephew in a shoe cupboard?

Definitely not the strictest teacher in the school, that's for sure.

And she had asked to see him after recess.

Oh no, that's the bell. Here goes.

Terrified, he had forgotten that the bells were running 5 minutes early.

So, of course, as soon as she stepped into the classroom, a torrent of angry words came swooping down upon him...

Meanwhile, Dudley had met up with his mates the second everyone had started going inside with the teachers ( Dudley and his gang were meant to be off 'doing something nice for Mrs Laban's birthday'. About to bunk off school was more like it).

They had rushed to the neglected, open gate in that unsupervised minute when everyone was sitting down to be registered - when they had told their unwary teacher that they were walking to the art classroom to, for the rest of the afternoon, make a present and card - and made their escape.

Unlucky for them, they had forgotten that they had to be dismissed, and teachers communicate with each other- If Mrs Burman were to simply see Mr Teyea, then she would know that they had been lying.

A teacher can't leave children alone. This plan was doomed to fail.

… How dare you, you scoundrel! You walk into this classroom EARLY, braking the rules set for keeping you, and everyone around you, SAFE?

And you DARE damage other's property, you come in here at the wrong time, do your little EVIL SORCERY, and turn my wig BLUE?

How dare you walk the same EARTH as me, breathe the same air as ME?

Have no doubt in your HORRID little sticky MIND, this IS GOING on a REPORT card?

AND, ON TOP OF ALL THIS, YOU **DARE** NOT DO YOUR HOMEWORK?

NO, this is UNACCEPTABLE, you now have 7 DETENTIONS!

Make NO mistake, the HEADMASTER'S got his EYE on you.

And here he was. Harry was on his way home, thinking of all the things that his Aunt and Uncle will say.

The worst of it all is that the girl who he is kinda dating and really into, Patricia, was in his class. After school, outside the school gates, she slapped him in the face and said that she never wants to see him, or speak to him, again.

On the weekend, he had been going to have a romantic experience with her, under the stars, a few fireworks in the near distance, and was finally going to get what he truly wanted; a kiss.

 _Later, when they finally found Dudley, Harry thought he was going to hear Dudley being shouted at. He was rather disappointed..._

"Well Dudley, your mother and I are rather disappointed in you for bunking off school to have some sweets, but we have talked it over, and we have decided that we can't be too harsh on you.

After all, boys do need to let off some steam, something that girly headmaster of yours just doesn't seem to understand. Uncle Vernon was talking to Dudley sternly at first, but then, sensing a chance to bond with his son, he lightened his tone of voice.( he whispered the last part to Dudley, but loudly, so Harry and Aunt Petunia could hear ).

So this was his so-called treat of Dudley being told off? They had known that Harry had been looking forward to this, and had punished him once again for hoping to enjoy this.

Well, if that's how they want this, that's how this shall be...

 _Don't worry, I will keep these coming, maybe with a sprinkle of mischievousness added next time..._


	6. Chapter 6: Matilda!

_Harry dares to prank the Dursleys - will it work?_

 _Inspired by Twelfth night._

Harry had to get them back somehow- and he had decided to prank them.

The first thought that had popped into his young mind was Matilda - the book and movie.

He knew about Matilda because he had watched it - well, sort of.

He had listened through the small vent in his cupboard door as Uncle Vernon went on about innovation and inspiring things, and Vernon and Dudley had watched Matilda.

At the silent pranks, Harry knew what was going on because Dudley likes to commentate.

Dudley talks a lot during movies.

Anyway, back to the present, it was time to go to bed. Young Harry snuggled up in his little nest of itchy blankets, and had a dream. He now had a plan.

10:00. Perfect. Harry woke up, and slowly tiptoed his way up the staircase, and towards his Uncle and Aunt's bedroom door.

He knocked, and went in.

"Oh, it's that boy. What d'ya want?" Uncle Vernon grunted, half asleep.

Harry braced himself. He thought of walking away, of running out that door, of convincing his Uncle that this was just a dream. But then, when Uncle Vernon asked again, Harry summoned up all his courage.

Harry quickly squeaked: "I had a really bad dream. I dreamt that you and Aunt Petunia loved me, and I grew fat and pig-like, so fat and pig-like that I looked like Dudley"!

Unfortunately, this was not quick enough for Uncle Vernon. As Harry looked up from the ground where he'd been staring for the past few seconds; there was a stunned silence.

Harry saw the wrath in his Uncle's piggy, black eyes.

In that moment, Harry knew that this time, he'd gone too far.

His Uncle started shouting : Pig yourself! You insulted my son!

Aunt Petunia woke up ; Dudley was shrieking about being woken up so early; everything was chaos.

Then Harry woke up.

Harry pinched his leg; he knew that this last part had just been a dream.

The whole thing about telling his Uncle that Dudley looked like a pig had been nothing.

Nothing but a dream within a dream.

The next day, Harry awoke with a start. During the night, he'd remembered something he'd seen three days ago. Something that happened after school, down an alleyway, with Dudley and someone else.

No-one would have believed him, but now he knew what to do.

Harry walked out of school two minutes earlier than normal, with a smirk on his face. Dudley would be home by now, and likes getting the post.

Harry got back home, posted a roll of paper through the letterbox, and stepped inside. The trap was set. Now, he just had to wait.

However, Harry had forgotten one crucial detail: Dudley had detention after school.

Oh, and Mr. Dursley was working from home, working on his big presentation for his boss the next day.

Mr. Dursley had now finished, and went to get the mail. The following letter read:

 _Hey there Darling,_

 _Let's mix things up a little._

 _Tomorrow, wear your Scottish skirt, but_ _no top for the whole day._

 _Come on, You decide... But I'm waiting!_

 _Love from,_

 _Your little love!_

'Aha! So, Petunia want's to spice things up a bit, now, does she?' Uncle Vernon chuckled to himself. 'She's finally admitting that she's skinny. I think I like this new personality of Petunia's is better than the old one!' He walked back upstairs, leaving the letter by the door.

Meanwhile, whilst Harry was in a different room, not having heard any of this. An hour and a half later, Dudley returned home from school, saw the letter, and immediately upstairs to do his homework and find his Scottish skirt from that time the Dursleys had dressed up as Scots for that party a couple years ago.

Harry had seen Dudley's excitement, and smiled.

The next day, Harry was ecstatic. Last night, Vernon had seen Dudley attempting to find the skirt, and they'd had a little talk.

" So, your woman getting you to wear a Scottish skirt too, huh? Yeah, they seem to be the new fashion. Wear you're school clothes tomorrow, Petunia will leave, and we'll put on the skirt. You go to school, I go to work, Petunia never sees, what's the problem?"

The next day, Vernon ushered Harry out of the house, although he secretly stayed, quietly hidden in a bush in the front garden.

A few minutes later, a delighted young Harry heard a shout from inside, "And know, we run!", and saw the father and son rush out of the house in their skirts.

As they rushed noisily past him, he smiled and chuckled to himself. This had gone better than he;d ever hoped!

 _A little seperate note-the girl that Dudley had kissed, and that he was dating, was Patricia. She was only dating Dudley because, when she broke up with Harry, she wanted some private revenge on him. So, she decided to date the person who Harry hated most-Dudley. After the skirt incident, they broke up._


	7. Chapter 7: The club, part 1

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because what?" Harry pleaded, rather desperately, to his Uncle Vernon.

"Because, it costs money. £15 pounds for one half term! What am I, made of money?"

"Dudley goes to a club that costs that much. Why can't I go?"

"Because you don't get a steady income."

"But neither does Dudley?"

"Dudley gets pocket money."

"That's from you!"

Uncle Vernon pursed his lips in a Petunia- like way, and sighed. "If you can earn money, and that means get a job, you can go. End of discussion."

"But.."

"I said, end of discussion. Now go to your cupboard."

But Harry couldn't sleep. He got up, and heard voices. He scampered to the kitchen door, and heard the last snippets of a conversation.

" But what if he gets a job by the end of the week?"

"That boy? Never. It's a lunch- time club on Fridays, so he only has a few days to get a job. Besides, who'll be fool enough to hire him?

Harry went back to bed, dejected and sorrowful. What if his Uncle was right?

The next morning, Harry woke up early, with a new sense of hope. Harry just had to get a job. He would finally be in with the cool kids, with an added bonus of proving his aunt and uncle wrong. After all, it can't be that hard for a seven- year old to get a job, could it?

After an early, measly portion of bread, butter, and one small carrot, Harry set out to get a job. He had from Sunday to Friday to find one and earn some money, and then it was the spring term.

He got up early, and had the bite of breakfast that he was allowed, and ran out the door. At first, he walked into the local police station, and an officer came up to him. "Hi, I'm here for the job o..."

"Oh, kid, are you lost? Here, let me help you. Can you find your home from here?". Harry , more frustrated then he had ever been in his entire life, ran out of the building.

He may not have had much of a good start to the morning, but he checked his list for the next job opportunity: a fireman. He checked the map, the fire station was next door …

The next day, he tried out to be a clerk, an accountant, and a whole bunch of other boring, menial jobs, but he was laughed at, every single time.

The day after that, he tried for the post office, and the people who worked there glared conspicuously at him, and then chased him out of the back door by threatening him with a broom.

He decided to go back home, admitting defeat.

But then...

Great! Just another chance for him to be rejected. Harry walked into the newspaper store, as it had begun raining, and really hard. Soon, he was completely soaked. He ran into the store, and went up to the counter. "Hi, can I please buy an umbrella..." The shopkeeper turned around, and instantly started babbling. Out of politeness, Harry stopped talking. " Come quickly Marge! You said that you still needed one more, right? Well, what do you think about this one?".

Soon, Harry found himself being bustled into his new job! He was now... a newspaper boy.

The next morning, Petunia and Vernon began fretting over what to do- for Harry was no longer safely asleep in his cupboard! They decided to have a discussion in the dining room about what to do.

But then there was a knock at the door, as there usually was at this time of morning, Vernon yelled out to Petunia, " I'll get it. It's just the newspaper boy, wanting to be tipped extra again". But the surprise on Vernon's face when he opened the door to a rather wet and grinning Harry, well, you should have been there!

Swinging from the little boy's shoulder was a big satchel, now empty. Harry handed the last newspaper to his Uncle, and said that he was done for the day. He tried his best to not act happy or excited, but he couldn't hold it in any longer. Then he stuffed his fist in his mouth, and turned away from his Uncle.

Harry got to school, and...

 _Read more in Part 2, ' the club's truth!'_

 _please keep reading..._


	8. Chapter 8: The club, part 2

_Hello and welcome to Part 2: the club's truth! Have fun reading..._

When Harry arrived at school, he was grinning from ear to ear. He had a job, money, and a chance to get into the school hierarchy. The bully-some Kenneth Williams was the most popular boy in school, and he ran the club.

So all he had to do was hand over some money, and then he would get a special pass to get into the cool kids' inner circle.

Ah, there he is. Harry walked over to Ken, tipped his school cap, and passed him the term's money.

But he never received a pass...

The next day, Harry asked Ken's friend Peter when the club would begin. Peter simply told him that they usually started the meetings later in the term, maybe a week in.

" But what does the pass look like?" Harry was practically whining.

Peter leaned over, and and began painting an image in Harry's head. He told him that the pass was silver and beautiful. He told Harry that the only reason that they were a bit of a group of bullies sometimes was so that the other people wouldn't try to rally against them when they tried to make the school a better place, or so he said. Harry, however, wasn't convinced.

Every day, one of Ken's cronies told Harry that Ken hadn't been able to make one yet, he was busy, and more simple excuses. Finally, Harry couldn't take it anymore.

He went to the gang's meeting place, a secluded room on the top floor. He was preparing a speech that he would reel out, so long as he didn't run into any teachers. Luckily, all of the teachers who weren't on duty were in the staff room, so he successfully made it up to the top floor unseen.

He creeped slowly and uncertainly towards the door, beginning to regret his decision to stand up to the gang. He leaned over, and pressed his ear to the door, catching the last of a conversation between the popular group...

" So, when are you gonna break it to that kid?"

"Never. He is falling for our excuses every week. We can just keep telling him that the club will be on the next week. He will give us the money as long as we keep pretending that there is a club."

"Is that fair?"

"We are popular. Fair doesn't matter any more."

Harry's heart sank. He stood up tall, took a deep breath, and strode through the door.

Everyone turned their heads towards the approaching boy. They stood up, and Harry's little heart beat faster. They had scammed him! He wouldn't stand for people treating him like this, making him feel gullible. He started to shake...

Now the room was shaking, now the entire school. Time itself seemed to have slowed down. Then, suddenly, A board fell off the wall, revealing a dark hole...

Fifteen minutes later, the police were swarming all over the building, whilst a very scared and sweating Harry was explaining what happened. In the end of it all, the police had deduced that Kenneth Williams was no ordinary schoolboy, but actually part of a smuggling ring. They also decided that Harry was just a young kid, and that his over- active imagination had created the whole school- shaking part, although that still didn't explain how he found the drugs...

There were so many school students who could account for where Harry was, so the police discounted him as a possible suspect. They also decided that the rest of the gang didn't know what they were doing, and didn't realise what they were dealing with.

Harry was thanked for uncovering this branch of criminals, and also told that this might just lead them to the ring's inner circle.

But he still wondered about the building shaking. He could have sworn that something had happened, even though everyone told him that it was probably just a small tremor of the earth's platonic plates, if it wasn't just a figment of his imagination.

He remembered that time he ended up on the school roof, or growing his hair back in one night. He wondered if it really wasn't just his imagination, if it was really something else...

 _Please leave a comment, tell me what you think! Also, if you haven't read part one, please read it!_


	9. Chapter 9:Before Harry

_Harry was not the only one to have adventures..._

James Potter strolled along the hallways of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, pondering his fate if he was caught.

Then he laughed at that preposterous thought, for he was Prongs, the secret map-maker and mischief maker in co-chief. He was shrouded in his special invisibility cloak that never gets damaged, with his Marauders Map spread out in front of him.

His stout arms were full of pies, secreted from the Kitchens. (Kitchens has a capital letter as James worshipped them as they were his God, the merciful supplier of constant sweet treats).

Oh no! Our favourite mischief- maker was so pre-occupied by his gloating, hat he failed to notice the small dot moving stealthily towards him, labeled in ancient copperplate markings; Mrs. Norris.

James, the boy who laughs in the face of danger, was about to get caught by a cat. Everyone knows that this particularly troublesome feline had a 50% chance of seeing through invisibility cloaks...

 _Remus Lupin was a werewolf, and tonight was full moon. Things were not looking, good; he had seen_ _Snivellus_ _sneaking out of his dorm. What if he was following them, even now?_

 _His grotesquely curved neck craned nervously backwards, and he thought he saw a flicker in the corner of his eye. No, surely it's fine. He would have smelt Snape by now. He hurried along the tunnel towards the Shrieking Shack._

James was hurrying now, running quietly along the corridor with his back hunched over nervously. It was too late; she was here.

Her intense, feline eyes glowed fiercely in the dim glow of the front door. James had been seen. His pies stuck out like Peeves. James saw his chance. His sharp mind knew what to do. He threw a pie at the angry cat, and ran.

 _They were nearly there by now. He was nearly safe. This time there was definitely someone. No, just James, hurrying through the entrance with meat pies._

 _Remus snarled, he was already quite far through his transformation. They had left late, because of Snape, so WormTail had been declared unsafe and left behind. This meant that Moony had been accompanied only by PadFoot._

 _Now the three were together: mesrs. Moony, PadFoot and Prongs. For a moment, our wolf was lost in that happy thought, even if WormTail wasn't there._

 _Then his super- enhanced nose twitched. He smelled trouble._

They had reached the Shack, and were locking their friend in, after having given him the pies. But then they heard a sharp gasp behind them, and turned around. Snape was standing in the damp passage- having figured out how to get in- and he'd seen Lupin.

With a fearsome roar, a shaft of moonlight hit the sliver of a gap between the boarded- up windows, and _Moony_ changed, living up to his name.

PadFoot, still in dog form, charged at Lupin, locking the door safely away from their mutilated friend.

But the flashes of sounds and images were still in terrified little Snape's head, and he was standing there, too stupefied ( HP joke!) to move.

Prongs, quickly changing back to human form, charged at Snape, getting him out of the way just in time for Moony's head, now a full wolf, was locked behind the strengthened, iron- infused door.

And with that, Snape ran off, leaving James and his friends alone.

 _ **This story is how Lupin became wolf.**_

Lyall Lupin had a rough day at work; first, the Flu powder made him end up in the wrong fireplace, and have to take a muggle cab.

The slowness of the muggle transport– how do they live without magic?- which made him late for work. Again.

Then he was assigned a Screaming Bogey banishing- the only great accomplishment- which he would begin tomorrow.

The problem was, this particular troublesome Bogey was Strathtully, an ally of the powerfully Fenrir Greyback, the worst wolf. Speak of the devil...

Greyback slunk suavely towards him, clearly angry. "You can't banish my friend. Otherwise..." He trailed off, slowly and clearly, emphasising the consequences.

"Sorry about your precious ego, but this is my job, whereas being intimidating is yours" Lyall had his own comeback.

"Plus, I have ministry protection. Your threats are NOTHING" Lupin shouted that last part after the retreating monster's back.

The following night, Lyall and Hope lay together, entwined in each other's arms. They were happy, apart from that niggling worry about the wolf.

But he shouldn't be worrying; he should be celebrating. He had successfully banished the Screaming Bogey of Strathtully, and he was proud.

This is what he would be known for, after he had passed.

The man who banished Strathtully – it would be a quiz question on every quiz in the wizarding world.

And, the old Wolf can't do anything. No, surely he can't.

And, because the universe loves irony, that is when they heard the scream.

Lyall and Hope already scrambling out of their King sized bed, and running to the door.

It was a child's scream, loud and piecing and horrible. It was the worst sound that a parent can ever hear. Especially if it's your own child.

Lyall ran out the front door, running for his tiny son. Before he could get there in time, Hope ran in-front of her shrieking, writhing son. But not in time. Hope's finally scream shot out, and she fell to the ground. Hope was dead. By the hands of the Wolf.

And not only that, but Remus, his five- year- old son, was shuddering in the moonlight. In a full coat of fur.

And that is the story of how Lupin became a _Homo Homini Lupus_.

 _Meanwhile..._

Little James zoomed around on his broom, smiling away like a maniac. His parents stood over him, smiling proudly. Look at him go, they'd say. Fawning over him. Treating him like a baby. Well, they'll see. He'll learn the best spells, and be the greatest wizard who'd ever lived. They'll see...

Lyall rubbed his eyes self-pityingly. In the six years since Hope - the love of his life - had passed, his greatest worry had been his son.

Hope would have wanted them to move on. "Life is too short for mourning. So don't mourn me". Hope's last words of her will echoed back at him.

So he slapped himself to wake up, and instead worried about his Remus. What if he didn't make it into Hogwarts?

Of course he wouldn't – right. Would. Always be optimistic, no matter what. Armando Dippet is totally the kind of headmaster to take pity on a poor little boy and his ex-ministry father. To let a werewolf into the school. Right.

He picked up a newspaper – the Magic Mystery-teller Machine – and stopped in shock. Albus Dumbledore, the defeater of Grindelwald, had accepted the position as the new headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry!

Lyall's hopes leaped tremendously. And then he heard the mail flap open, then close. Lyall smiled gleefully.

He heard his son's hurrying, pattering footsteps, and rushed down to meet him.

It was the letter. He was in!

His wand let out a small burst of streamers, and suddenly the world was bright again. He could see clearly, enjoy life again. For the first time in six years, they were both blissfully happy.

 _And that pure, glorious elation, the most perfect, best moment in ages. It is those moments that truly matter. Because, whilst the ghosts of bad memories, of neglectful childhoods, may still haunt you, it is these moments that you will remember. These perfect moments that will pull you back up from the world of the lost, and finally let you live a little again._

 _This is a message of hope to a friend I know, who has lost their father. I want them to read this, and know that whilst I may not be able to give you empathy, at least I can give you sympathy._


End file.
